


I Can't Help Fallin'

by nobetterlove



Series: Paint & Grease [2]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Drama, Fluff, Injury, M/M, Making Up, Mechanic!Tony, artist!clay, motor cycle accident, tw: accidents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 04:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobetterlove/pseuds/nobetterlove
Summary: Two years after 'So It Does Exist' Clay is preparing to open up his first solo art show. Tension is high and these two hot heads aren't the best to each other. Then, something happens to Tony and thing are put into perspective.There is a bit of accident type stuff where Tony is injured, so keep an eye out of that if you're triggered in any way.





	I Can't Help Fallin'

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! In my absence, lots of people commented on this story, so I figured I needed to put up a second part. Thank you for all the inspiration to come back and write. Sorry for the two year delay - but it makes for good drama, if nothing else. I hope you enjoy the next installment of this series. This one is paving the way for the next couple!

**The accident**

The roads were slick, that much he could tell. His bike seemed to be moving faster and slower all at the same time. In a normal situation, he would’ve waited out the wetness, or called Clay for a ride. Clay, icy blue eyes and insane amounts of talent, was currently setting up for his very first gallery show, probably looking at his watch every few seconds – wishing Tony to be there every time. No – Tony needed to get there, despite how terrible the conditions really were.

He couldn’t have been more than a few miles from the gallery when his front tire hit something hard, causing it to shift to the side. Trying to correct the wheel movement, Tony pushed the handlebars in the opposite direction. On a normal day, he would’ve been in the clear with his fast hands and ability to control himself perfectly on the bike. Yet, the dampness of the roads in combination with the wiggle of his tire had the bike pitching sideways – Tony trying in vain to keep it from toppling over. Suddenly, his shoulder hit the pavement – followed very shortly by his helmet covered head.

Tony never believed the people who spoke about seeing their life flash before their eyes. He assumed they were trying to spice up a near death experience or make light of a topic that most people couldn’t handle. When his head hit the pavement, helmet cracking as he did, Tony could’ve sworn he saw crystal blue eyes flash before him. Yes, as oxygen deprivation started to affect his brain, Tony knew for sure those people were telling the truth. If he was going to die, at least he’d have the vision of Clay one last time.

\---

**Two years earlier**

Tony couldn’t believe his luck. Years of pining and chasing his tail were finally starting to pay off. After the encounter in Clay’s garage, the two were inseparable. They both fell naturally into the other’s rhythm, both guys understanding who the other was and how they’d been doing things over the years. Tony thought that he’d never be given this chance to learn and grow with Clay, but now that he was, he didn’t want it to stop. 

A couple months after stumbling across Clay’s artwork of himself, Tony walked into the other’s garage to an immediate armful of Clay Jensen. His boyfriend (yeah, he still got a little giddy about it, too) wrapped his long limbs around his shoulders, their chests colliding in a way that took the breath from them both. “They fucking loved it, Ton!” Clay panted, the other’s head turning to the side, wet lips pressing against his neck. “They loved it, and they’re going to give me more money to paint.”

“Holy fuck, babe!” Tony started, pulling Clay tighter against him. A moment later, he created some space between them, just enough to actually see the other. His hands moved on their own accord, both palms reaching to press against the other’s cheeks lightly. Ring covered thumbs moved to caress the angular cheekbones, then lower over teeth worried lips. “I’m so proud of you, Jensen. You just needed the right muse to come along,” he finished with a wink, sliding into the remaining space between them to press his lips to Clay’s. “Any time you need a model, you know where to find me.”

Those words were met with a beaming smile – and a sneaky look in those blue eyes. From that point on, Tony became Clay’s go-to to paint. Every now and again, Clay would pull him into his garage studio, supply him with beer and pot, and paint him. The taller boy didn’t have rules about moving or talking – which made the process so much more fun for them both. Clay would tell him to turn every so often or move into an entirely different spot all together – never making it awkward or uncomfortable to be the object on the canvas. 

Tony would never admit to his boyfriend just how much he liked being the source of Clay’s inspiration. There was something to be said about subtlety, and Tony was still trying to play coy with some of his feelings. No, he’d probably never let the other know just how much it meant to him to be the one helping Clay achieve his dreams – even if it meant sitting in a chair having his face replicated on a piece of canvas. He wanted the other to succeed, in the same way Clay did for him. 

Countless times, Clay would get tired of being cooped up in his garage only to move into Tony’s to help the other with his little side business. He lost count of the times Clay handed him the wrong tool or spilt something on accident. His boyfriend wasn’t the best assistant – but his most favorite, either way. Since graduating high school, Tony was slowly pulling away from his dad’s shop – seeking out customers and other like-minded people that enjoyed working on bikes. He was determined to get his shop up and running – even if it meant running it out of his own garage. Slowly, people started to hear about a Padilla working on something other than cars – and were interested. Tony went from fiddling with his own bike to working on several different customer bikes throughout the week. Though the space was limited, Tony made it work.

Yeah, both he and Clay were willing to make it work in whatever way they needed. Being a college graduate, Clay wanted to have tangible success with his artwork. More times than not, he walked into the Jensen house to pick Clay up and right into the middle of a fight between mother and son. His parents couldn’t understand the need to drop everything and pick up paints – but Clay would never stop trying to make them. On such occasions, Tony would make his presence known, giving Clay the out he wouldn’t have gotten any other way. And when his boyfriend wanted to talk about that and nothing else, Tony let him. He’d do anything to help, even if that meant being a sounding board and the ultimate shoulder to cry on.

It didn’t hurt that Tony was experiencing the same thing in his home life. His father had two older sons that ran businesses and couldn’t understand why Tony didn’t want to be a part of the family tradition. Screaming at him about being open to working with cycles never worked, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and dealt with whatever the old man had to throw at him. He knew, despite going against the family, that he needed to step out and do his own thing. Motorcycles were his dream, and much like Clay, nothing was going to stop him from achieving it.

Just shy of a year into their relationship, Tony felt Clay start to pull away. Everything was going insanely great between the two of them, so he didn’t understand the taller guy’s motive. They were slowly starting to figure out how they could afford a place together, how they could start their lives away from their parents – how they could achieve their dreams together. Yet, he could still feel the other pull away. It didn’t make sense to him for a long while, either. Clay would shower him with so much attention during their dates, but the second they got back home, he’d clam up – almost like he was keeping a secret, or something.

Things finally came to a head about a week before their year anniversary. Tony was getting tired of being brushed off and couldn’t stand the disconnect. He rudely entered Clay’s shop without knocking, finding the workspace empty. It wasn’t like his boyfriend to be away from his work for too long – so something was definitely up. Moving further into the room, Tony noticed a bright yellow folder on Clay’s desk. Now, he wasn’t one for snooping usually, but with the change of behavior, he couldn’t help himself. Quickly snatching up the folder, he flipped it open – only to slam it shut a second later. Clay wasn’t withdrawing from him…. he was surprising him with a lease to an apartment. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of so little trust in the other, his hands making quick work of the folder – hoping he placed it in the right spot in a desperate attempt at making Clay believe he didn’t go through his things.

In the end, it didn’t really matter. Clay presented the folder to him the very next day – an unusual apprehension and excitement overtaking his usually stoic and controlled boyfriend. “I’ve been talking to all the places we went and looked – this one seemed like our best option. We can rent a garage to go with our unit, so you can work on your motorcycles and not be under your dad’s thumb. With the extra bedroom, I can set up a studio – and we won’t go completely broke paying the rent each month,” he said, fingers fiddling with the papers within the folder. It was obvious, just how much time Clay put into this endeavor. Tony felt a whole lot of things, apprehension and anxiety, but nothing compared to the overwhelming affection rushing through him.

Tony wrapped his arms tightly around the other, smooshing the folder between them. “It’s perfect, Corazon. Anywhere with you is what I want – but this place is perfect. You thought of everything we wanted. A whole garage, Clay? I’m not going to know what to do with all the space!” He grinned then, sliding his arms down Clay’s sides, fingers settling on the curve of his hip. When their lips pressed against each other, they both knew no other discussion was necessary – this was their next move and it was going to be the best one they’d taken together yet.

\--- 

**Two weeks before the accident**

“Harder Tony, yes!” Clay screamed, his back arching into Tony’s exploring fingertips. Tony took the advice without a second thought, his hips rocking forward quicker, his thighs starting to burn from the push. They’d been teasing each other for the past couple of hours now, the almost painful tingling in his cock a gentle reminder of the fact. Having Clay under him was one of his favorite things, and with the freedom they’d been enjoying for more than a year now, Tony couldn’t get enough. They would frequently spend their time off together like this, wrapped in a sweaty pile of limbs and flesh – sweat dripping from their brows a regular sign of their affection for the other.

Reaching around, smaller fingers found the flesh of Clay’s dick, each wrapping around the turgid length to squeeze and pull. He quickly found a good rhythm that matched what his hips were putting down, fingers tightening every time Clay did the same with his delectable ass around his own cock. The need to hang on a little longer ran over him, yet the need to cum seemed to be running faster. His stomach was a hot pool of lava, the shaky mountain threatening to explode with every thrust in and pull out. Tony could tell Clay was close too, the other’s thighs shaking below him every time he bottomed out. With that in mind, he hastened his pace one last time, the head of his cock slamming against Clay’s prostate with every stroke.

“Fuck baby, wanna feel you cum for me – want to feel you lose it around me.” Tony using his words to spur the other on, the smaller of the two knowing just how much that drove his boyfriend crazy. After a couple more thrusts, Tony could feel them both inches away from reaching their destination – when Clay’s phone rang, the sound of it pitching against the walls, ringing in Tony’s ear the same way it had for the past two months.

Groaning, Tony tried to keep up his thrusts – but he’d already lost Clay below him. His boyfriend growled lightly, his hand moving to join Tony’s on his dick – only to remove it from the hot skin. “Fuck, hold on –“ Clay mumbled, looking over his shoulder in a way that had Tony pulling out, regardless of how close he still was to his orgasm. Tony let out a sigh, this wasn’t the first time a phone call ruined the time between them.

Clay was two weeks away from opening up his first ever solo gallery. Two weeks seemed like a long time after the past two months of preparation. They were slowly getting to the finish line, the closer they got demanding more time from his significant other. Tony knew this was a way for Clay to get more exposure, hell – they could pay the next few months’ rent without a blink of an eye with the other’s commission. He held so much excitement for this big opportunity for his boyfriend – yet wished it didn’t come with so much of their free time together sacrificed.

Rolling over, Tony placed a hand on his slowly deflating erection. If they were lucky, Clay would have enough time to pick up where they stopped – but he wasn’t crossing his fingers. When Clay first announced this amazing opportunity, Tony had no idea how much work actually went into putting a show on. Clay finished his highlighted work months before securing the deal, so he wasn’t even painting. No, the busy-ness came from never ending calls, meetings, and rides to the studio to give his opinion on the most menial of things. Tony knew things were going to get a little hectic but didn’t quite understand just how much.

Throughout the process, he’d been very patient. He knew getting mad at Clay for missing dates or putting things off would only add stress to the already lengthy process. He wanted their time together to stay the same way. He selfishly wanted to hole Clay up in their apartment and never let him leave – that wasn’t feasible, though. So, he clung to the time they could swing together while being there as much as he could. The art world was not his domain, but he could lug boxes and move supplies like an absolute champ. 

After a few minutes of muttered words and exasperated sighs, Clay came back into their room, his naked figure a stark comparison to the look on his face. Soft skin gave way to long limbs covered in beautiful tattoos, but his face was pinched – irritated in a way he’d been for at least a month. Tony bit his lip, trapping the loud sigh threatening to escape him. He’d seen this look on the other’s face many times over the planning period and knew he’d be rushing out of the house here in the next few minutes.

Like the other was reading his mind, Clay started to whirlwind around the room, picking up articles of clothing as he did. “Sorry, babe. They want to move one of the paintings and I’m not sure I agree with where they want to put it. I’ve got to go…” Clay stopped then, looking over at Tony – who still sat naked in the middle of their bed. This time, Tony couldn’t hold back the sigh, their coital sweat still drying on his brow. 

“What’s the problem?” Clay questioned; his annoyance obvious as his brow pinched even tighter together. “I’m two weeks out. Things have to be perfect, Tony. This is… this is my one shot.” Clay looked over then, blue eyes shadowed with the slightest bit of self-doubt. Tony yearned to take that darkness away from him, he wanted desperately to make Clay understand his talent – but a bigger emotion was winning at the moment.

“The problem is – “he started, moving to the edge of the bed, the balls of his feet hitting the floor. “ – I haven’t been able to get you alone in weeks. And when we are alone, I’m waiting for the phone to ring. I miss you, Clay.” Tony decided to cut right to the chase, his skin starting to prickle from the cold of the air and the iciness of Clay’s gaze.

Just like that, the earlier annoyance at the art director was now completely spotlighted on him. Clay finished pulling his shirt over his head before he spoke again, eyes like steel as he stared in Tony’s direction. “I’m so close to this thing getting off the ground. You can’t be doing this now. I need your support, Tony – not whatever this shit is.” The words were said quietly, even in a rage Clay refusing to raise his voice. “You’re supposed to support me, Tony.”

The words were heavy in the air, Tony unable to stop himself from feeling the slightest bit of hurt from that. More than anything, he’d been supporting Clay in whatever way he could. Despite a selfish moment minutes before, he didn’t think his support should be questioned. “I’ve supported you our entire relationship, Clay. I’ve been here through every step. I can’t help that I’m selfish. That I want a little you and me time. I get that you’re busy, but it’s bull shit for you to question my support. I’ve always been your biggest fan.” Tony stood then, his words trembling ever so slightly. He looked frantically around the room, suddenly needing his clothes on his back to act as another layer of protective armor. In all their time together, he’d never felt like this – like they weren’t on the same page.

“If bitching about time together is how you’re going to show support, I don’t want it. Sorry I’m working hard on this, that you’ve taken a backseat. This is my dream – I’m so close to it, I can taste it.” Clay’s reply was louder this time, his voice a little shaky.

“You don’t – you don’t want it?” Tony questioned, his body temperature spiking at the sudden flash of anger running through him. “You can’t understand where I’m coming from – so you don’t want my support? If that’s really how you feel about it, Clay – that’s fucking fine with me!” He was shouting now, his earlier composure and understanding going out the window. He moved quickly around the room after that, collecting his jeans and boots, slipping on the Henley from earlier. “If you decide you want it again, let me know. I think I’ll just leave you alone until then.” With that said, he opened the door – his leather jacket tight in the clench of his fingers. 

His feet carried him throughout the apartment on autopilot, boots stamping on the floor without him really registering. He grabbed his backpack and motor cycle keys, the only possessions he couldn’t live without. The garage would be his home for the next little bit – at least there he was understood, at least there – he knew he was wanted. As he walked out, he missed the broken “Tony – “ from the other. 

He left without turning around.

\---

**The day of the accident**

Things between them didn’t get any better in the days leading up to Clay’s show. Which made sense, because Tony avoided every single interaction with Clay that he possibly could. Sure, they still shared a bed and would say ‘I love you’ before they rolled over and to go to sleep, but Tony wasn’t willing to just forget what Clay said. He wasn’t willing to get over not being wanted in any regard. If Clay knew or felt that, he didn’t say. The last two weeks were filled with preparations, last minute touch ups to his work, and lots of coming and going between their home and the studio. Tony couldn’t blame him, either. He couldn’t even blame the words Clay spit his way in anger – but he couldn’t forgive him, not in that moment, anyway. 

So, Tony went through the motions of their life together. There was no love lost between them, of course. Relationships had a natural ebb and flow, most of theirs being a great ebb in the best of directions. Yet, as they got closer to the biggest night of Clay’s life, the flow seemed to be moving in the opposite direction. It wasn’t going to end anything between them, at least – Tony didn’t want it to. They needed to get through this without falling apart, then they could get back to the goodness between them. Without all the stress, without all the worry of what was coming next, Tony knew they’d get it back – they always did. 

Clay’s text message tone brought him out of his thoughts, the shrill Super Mario Brothers theme song reverberating off the walls in his small garage. Blinking, Tony grabbed his phone, the same heat he always felt when Clay texted him falling into the pit of his belly. He knew feeling that meant things were still okay – that nothing really changed between the two of them. Tony loved Clay, there wasn’t any denying that. Even when they were being selfish and unruly, Tony still loved Clay with everything he had.

Glancing at the screen, Tony felt his cheeks lift. This was the first positive text he’d gotten from Clay in days – both guys understanding the stalemate they were in.

  


Clay: I hope the garage can live without you for a couple hours tonight.

Clay: I need you there with me.

Clay: I want you there, Tony.

  


Grinning at the words, Tony felt his heart leap for what felt like the first time in weeks. Butterflies flapped their wings happily in his stomach, his fingers flying over the screen as they did.

  


Tony: You know I wouldn’t miss it.

Tony: I want to be there when the world realizes just how talented you really are.

Tony: I love you, Clay.

  


A sense of contentment washed over him then. They still had tons of things to talk about, things to work out for the next time something like this happened – but they were one step closer to that. Their relationship was strong enough to withstand a lot, this proving that they could still be together, despite not always thinking the same or being the best to each other. Their love was enough, a realization that hit Tony hard – harder than he ever expected it would. 

Brown eyes were drawn to the time then. Tony sucked in a breath when he noticed how little time he had to get to the studio. From their apartment, it was a solid twenty-minute drive and he had a little less than that to get there. Opening the garage door, he grimaced when he saw the rain falling. With the limited space in the garage, Tony decided to keep his beloved Mustang at his parent’s house. What was the best decision at the time was now coming back to bite him in the ass. He knew how dangerous it was to ride in the rain, especially on the little speedster of a bike he’d been nursing since sophomore year. Quickly, he dialed Jess’s number, groaning when it immediately went to voicemail. She’d be with Clay helping him put the finishing touches on his pieces. Fuck, he thought – fingers running through his hair when both Skye and Eric didn’t pick up, either. 

Taking a deep breath, Tony made the decision to get on his bike. He couldn’t miss the start of Clay’s show – hell, he didn’t want to not be there by the other’s side. Even though they’d been assholes to each other, Tony was the person Clay needed – Tony knew that fact more than anything else. He'd been his beckon of support for so long, he wasn't going to change that now. Gritting his teeth, he slipped on his leather jacket and pushed the bike out of the garage. He shut the door quickly, his skin already prickling from the cold rain hitting his bare neck. Slipping his helmet over his head, Tony kicked the bike started and rolled slowly out of the complex.

It didn’t matter how careful he was, though – the road were too slick, too slick for a bike like his to be riding.

Before closing his eyes after slamming his head into the concrete, his last thought was of Clay. He hoped the other would forgive him, that his night wouldn’t be ruined by the fact that Tony wasn’t there – the fact that Tony wouldn’t be there at all.

\--- 

The next time Tony blinked his eyes open, he was hit with the immediate smell of bleach. His nose wrinkled at the smell, his head throbbing at the slightest movement. He slammed his eyes shut again, letting out a soft groan. In the next second, he felt a hand grasp his, long fingers wrapping around his own. Tony didn’t need to open his eyes to see that it was Clay – he could hear the worrying from where he lay. “Clay – “ he started, his voice gravely. Where the fuck was he? How was he still alive after slamming his face into the pavement the way he did? All these questions were running through his mind, but he couldn’t put voice to any of them. His head was throbbing and the only thing anchoring him to consciousness was Clay’s fingers – their warmth radiating through him in the best of ways.

“Oh my god – you’re awake!” Tony heard, his head throbbing again at the pitch of the other’s voice. He forced his eyes to open then, the muscles in his face a little slow on the draw. By the time he’d blinked enough to shake the fog from his brain, Clay was sitting on the side of his bed, fingers wrapping themselves even tighter around his own. The first thing he saw was Clay’s face, tear stained and pale. Blue eyes were shimmering – unshed tears sitting right on the surface. Tony tried to move; the arm not pinned by Clay’s making an attempt to reach out – but it was no use.

“Don’t – don’t move, Tony. You’ve been in a coma for the past four days. You're… you're probably really groggy. Let everything come back before you try to move,” Clay mumbled, his butt scooting further up the bed to get closer to Tony. The next moment, he was wrapped in long pale limbs, Clay tightening his arms the second they made contact. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Tony. I was so fucking worried.” Clay let the words press against the skin of his neck, each one sitting heavy, weighed down by anxiety and dread.

“What happened?” Tony asked after a few moments, the words coming to him the slowest they ever have. “I don’t – I don’t remember anything…” he trailed off then, embarrassed by his lack of knowledge and how slow everything was for him. He felt like he was moving through goo, like each thought was coming to him at a glacial pace.

Clay released him then, both hands moving to grab one of Tony’s. The pressure was firm, Clay’s grip seemingly desperate in the way he clung. “You were in an accident, Tony. They told me the cycle slipped out from under you while you were taking a turn. Your shoulder took most of the damage, but you hit your head upon impact. You are… so lucky you were wearing a helmet. We’re so lucky that you’re still sitting here.” Clay stopped then, the tears from earlier starting to fall without any further preamble. The other’s grip tightened, fingers pressing into Tony’s so hard.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Tony. Sitting here these past few days, I was going crazy. They didn’t know if you were going to wake up – if you were going to come back. I… I couldn’t imagine not having you with me. And I had to experience that, even with your body lying in that bed.” He stopped, detaching one of his hands to swipe at the tears dripping freely down his cheeks. “I couldn’t handle the thought of never seeing your chocolate eyes again. Or never being called Corazon or kissing your lips. Tony – I am so insanely glad you’re okay, that I’m looking into your eyes and seeing you look back at me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you.”

Tony felt his own tears start to fall. He couldn’t really control anything about his body, so he wasn’t surprised by the wetness. He was the most surprised by Clay’s reaction and the feelings that washed over him. Tony wasn’t there to see Clay freaking out, but he could feel the desperation in the room. It seemed silly now, fighting about something as silly as unfinished sexual business. He could see just how distraught Clay was, how insanely worried he must’ve been waiting for Tony to wake up.

Moving his free hand, despite the molasses pace, Tony let his palm cup Clay’s face. “Sorry for scaring you. I’m okay, Corazon. I still can’t feel a lot of my limbs, but I’m looking at you and I’m feeling all the love you’ve been projecting into this room for the past few days. I love you, Clay – after all this shit, I know that’s the most important thing.” 

Arms were thrown around him after that, Clay finally letting go of the floodgates, his chest heaving with unshed tears that were now free to fall at will. Tony wrapped him up as much as he could, absorbing the others warmth and heat through the numbness of his own limbs.

He never believed people when they said their life flashed before their eyes during times of near death. Yet, holding the man in front of him and knowing he’d seen those gorgeous blues before losing consciousness, Tony knew they were telling the truth. Clay was his life – he’d spent the past two years fostering and nourishing that fact. The near death sucked, but the reassurance of his path in life wasn’t the worst thing to happen. Pulling out of the hug, Tony looked deep into Clay’s blue eyes and smiled, knowing this life was worth sticking around for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope the drama was just enough to wet your taste buds. These two are so fun to write, so I'm enjoying all the little plots running through my brain. If you'd like to see something specific in the next part, leave a comment! Until next time...


End file.
